I ain't--what's that?" he broke off sharply.
From the inner room had seemed to come a choking, inarticulate cry.
With a smothered ejaculation Jim picked up the lamp, hurried into the
sick-room, and tiptoed to the bed. The gaunt figure lay motionless, face
to the wall, leaving a trail of thin gray hair-wisps across the pillow.
"Gosh!" muttered the man as he turned away.
"There's nothin' doin'-but it did give me a start!"
On the bed the woman smiled grimly--but the man did not see it.
It was snowing hard when Jim got back from town Tuesday night. He came
blustering into the kitchen with stamping feet and wide-flung arms,
scattering the powdery whiteness in all directions.
"Whew! It's a reg'lar blizzard," he began, but he stopped short at the
expression on his wife's face. "Why, Ella!" he cried.
"Jim--Aunt Abby sat up ten minutes in bed ter-day. She called fer toast
an' tea."
Jim dropped into a chair. His jaw fell open.
"S-sat up!" he stammered.
"Yes."
"But she--hang it all, Herrick's comin' ter-morrer with the coffin!"
"Oh, Jim!"
"Well, I can't help it! You know how she was this mornin'," retorted Jim
sharply. "I thought she
was dead once. Why, I 'most had Herrick
come back with me ter-night, I was so sure.
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